Jayce finds you on the balcony of his workshop, staring out over the shimmering lights of Piltover. The wind is cool, but not as cold as the silence between you. He doesn’t push—he never does. Instead, he leans beside you, offering quiet companionship.

“I know he hurt you,” Jayce finally says, voice low, steady. “Made you think love was something to be afraid of.”

Your fingers tighten around the railing, but you don’t look away from the city below. “It’s not fear,” you murmur. “I just… don’t know if I can do this again.”

Jayce turns to you then, eyes warm, filled with something so genuine it makes your chest ache. “You don’t have to be sure right now,” he says. “But I need you to know—I won’t let you fall. If you need time, I’ll wait. If you need space, I’ll give it.”

He reaches out, hesitant, and when you don’t pull away, his fingers find yours, lacing them together with quiet certainty. “But if you ever let me in… I swear, I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight beside you.”

You close your eyes, breathing in the warmth of his presence, the safety in his promise. Maybe love doesn’t have to be something to fear. Maybe, just maybe, Jayce is different.